


Stay Still

by curiouscorvid (prometheanTactician)



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Blood, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, descriptions of injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-17 12:39:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12365979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prometheanTactician/pseuds/curiouscorvid
Summary: If Edward almost dying could scare the God of Fear, then… it was probably something he should try to avoid doing again.





	Stay Still

**Author's Note:**

> This was requested and written pretty quickly. Comments are appreciated!

“Just stay still.”

“Shut up, Jonathan.”

“Don’t tell me to shut up- stop moving!” A hand clamped down hard on Edward’s shoulder, pinning him down against the damp asphalt. His hand jerked back when Edward cried out in pain at the sudden movement, hovering for a moment before pressing back down more carefully. “You need to stop squirming and calm down. You’re just raising your heart rate and making yourself bleed out faster-”

“I know how bleeding works, Jonathan!” Edward almost snarled, as if indignant rage was the only thing that he could cling to at the moment. His teeth were clenched in a strained grimace. He was trying to glare at the man kneeling beside him but kept screwing his eyes shut against the pain. His breathing was too fast, too shallow and too shaky. Breathing hurt. Everything hurt. His brain was too glazed over by the pain to properly process the look on Jonathan’s face. Just that his mouth was set in a hard line and his brow was furrowed. 

“Clearly you don’t, or else you would listen to me and stay still!” Ed had never heard Jonathan yell before. If it was in their private life, he’d likely take pause. As it was, he didn’t really have it in him to care. Jonathan closed his eyes and took a steadying breath, exhaling slowly as he calmed himself and assessed the damage. Edward’s body was a mess. His ankle had twisted during the pursuit, there was a large gash on his shoulder that was bleeding an alarming amount, but nowhere near as much as the stab wounds. Two of them, near each other and done in quick succession. There was too much blood and fabric. Jon couldn’t properly tell how bad it really was.

Quickly, ignoring Edward’s protests and complaints, he tore open his partner’s shirt and quickly pushed the stained fabric out of the way. His bag- He had first aid equipment in his bag-

“This is going to hurt.” Was the only warning Edward got before his stomach injury started burning. Edward screamed, and Jonathan had the thought in the back of his mind that their position was surely compromised to the whole of Gotham. “It’s all I have on hand.” His voice was strained as he put the bottle aside, taking a closer look at the now-exposed wounds. Apparently he took too long doing that.

“Is it that bad?” Edward asked weakly, not really wanting to know the answer.

“I was a psychologist, Edward, this isn’t exactly my field. We need to get you to a hospital.”

“Great, I’m sure they won’t intentionally let me die. I’m sure they’ll do their best to save the known super-criminal.” Despite his usual snark, his voice was far too quiet. “Just… just take me home.” It was barely a whisper for all the energy he could muster.

“Take you home.” Jonathan repeated incredulously. “Edward, I’m not going to just let you choose a location for your death. I’m taking you to a hospital.”

“Save the melodrama for the Scarecrow, Jonathan.” Edward tried to move his hands to search his pockets, but was shaking way too hard to actually do anything useful. “In my pocket, get my phone and use my fingerprint to unlock it.” He waited for Jon to do as he said, then continued. “Call the girls. Tell Query to come get us and tell Echo to go get the usual doctor. She’ll know who I’m talking about.”

With one hand still keeping pressure on the worst wound, Jonathan called with the other. Edward wasn’t squirming anymore, because he was alarmingly still. He could hear Jonathan speaking on the phone, the edges of his vision failing him. He let his eyes close, determined that it wouldn’t be for the last time.

 

\----

“Just stay still.”

“Easier said than done.” Edward complained from bed, letting his head fall back against the headboard. “I’m bored. I want to do things. I’m sick of staying in bed.”

“Then you shouldn’t have gotten yourself stabbed.” Jonathan pointed out blandly, as he checked Edward’s stitches.

“Oh, because getting stabbed is my own fault-”

“You literally said, and I quote: What are you going to do? Stab me?” Jon fixed him with an absolutely unimpressed gaze. “You can’t keep doing things like that. You’re going to get yourself killed.”

“An occupational hazard.” Edward dismissed with a lazy wave of his hand.

“One that you seem to intentionally exacerbate.” Jonathan all but hissed the words at him, finishing up his work and pulling Edward’s shirt back down over his stomach. “For someone so smart, you seem to lack a very basic self-preservation instinct.

“Why are you angry about this? I got hurt, not you. You’re fine.”

“I’m fine.” Jon repeated dully, looking at Edward as if he were stupid. Edward hated that look. “Am I fine? Because I don’t think I am. I think I’m angry because you almost died, Edward, and you don’t seem to take that seriously at all!” Edward had never seen Jon so worked up about something, and honestly it was a little scary. There was a pinched look of near-fury on his face, until something in his expression broke and he let his head fall into his hands, exhausted.

“You were bleeding out.” He continued hoarsely. “You were dying, Edward. Right in front of me. Right there, at my feet, and there was nothing I could do.” He ran his hands over his face before letting his arms fall, elbows on his knees, hunched over and looking at Edward as if in defeat. “I don’t like being powerless, Edward. I don’t like being scared. I’m supposed to induce fear, not experience it.”

There was a long moment of silence in which Edward, for once, couldn’t think of what to say. He opened his mouth as if to try, but decided whatever he was going to say wasn’t sufficient.

“... Should I apologize?” He ended up asking, because he honestly didn’t know. Jonathan scoffed, shaking his head.

“Would you even know how? Just… Edward, you are not the only one with a stake in your life. If what happened last week were to never happen again, I would greatly appreciate it.” Tentatively, Edward reached out and took Jon’s hand in some vague attempt at comfort.

“... Lie down with me. If I’m stuck in bed, I might as well have good company.” Despite the offer, Jonathan stood up and slid his hand out of Edwards.

“I’m going to make some tea, then I’ll be in. Ten minutes.” Then he left, and Edward knew full well he wouldn’t be making any tea. He could almost see Jon, standing in the kitchen staring at nothing, thinking something no one could decipher. Edward sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. If him almost dying could scare the God of Fear, then… it was probably something he should try to avoid doing again.


End file.
